


Does She Love You? (The Other Woman)

by Mars_Bars



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Angst, BDSM, Cheating, Conditioning, Drug Use, F/F, How do I Make This Up to You?, Infidelity, Multi, Sexual Angst, Smut, failing marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:02:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28784631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mars_Bars/pseuds/Mars_Bars
Summary: Maybe childhood friendships don't lead to happy ever after.It's been years since Blackwell, and Max's dream has come true. Her photography is world renown, she's in galleries around the globe, she has more money than she knows what to do with, and she has a lover who can satisfy her in all the ways her wife could never.It's been years since Blackwell, and Chloe's dream has become a nightmare. Her best friend is gone, and her life is going nowhere. Her wife doesn't come home at night, and when she does it's obvious she's been sleeping with someone else. Something has to change. It has to.Enter the other woman.
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price, Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Victoria Chase
Comments: 32
Kudos: 29





	1. I Guess it's Spring, I Wouldn't Know

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Don't say a word (We'll dance with the devil)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17901338) by [Heart_Taker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heart_Taker/pseuds/Heart_Taker). 



> Inspired by/ripped off from “Don't say a word (We'll dance with the devil)” by Heart_Taker as well from "Does He Love You?" by Rilo Kiley. There is a lot of music that goes along with this story and I'll try to make a playlist of all of it once we get a way into the story.  
> I ended up having to rewrite much of the first few chapters as it turns out AO3 only saves drafts for a month after they are first created if you don't post them. While I had backups, I was mainly working on the story inside AO3 so they were a bit behind where I was progress wise.   
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both the work title and the chapter title come from the song "Does He Love You?" by Rilo Kiley. Chloe has always struck me as a very musically inclined individual. I can see her putting herself into the situations and stories of songs that resonate with her. Maybe she should write music herself?

The way cigarette smoke hangs in the air, it's almost ethereal. The way it curls like the supermassive gas clouds in outer space, just with less color than the textbook photos. You can watch it come off the barely lit tip for so long, you forget to actually smoke yourself. You forget how many cigarettes you've had. Forget how the heat of the lighter has replaced the heat of the home cooked meal. If you sit there staring at it for long enough, you can become hypnotized, and forget to even think.

But you can't forget to feel. You can't forget that your wife is cheating on you, how that tears your soul to shreds. You can't forget the look on her face when she comes home, how full of lust and satisfaction it is, before she sees your face and stones her expression, like your existence has stolen the joy from her life.

Chloe takes another drag. The cigarette nearly burns her fingers. She considers letting it, as if it could burn away memories as well as flesh. 

It's nearly half past midnight, Max was supposed to be home by 9pm. Friday was "date night." 

_"I, couldn't count every freckle_

_couldn't count every line_

_You've rolled your eyes_

_over at me for."_

_"In a parking lot light_

_With a stripped smile_

_You're making that look_

_Like it's funny that you're_

_causing me trouble."_

The Greeting Committee's " _Elise_ " begins to play over the stereo system again, signaling that the playlist she'd put together was repeating for a third time. Max had screamed at her, accused her of being wasteful with _Max's_ money when Chloe had the stereo replaced. Chloe could only shout back that she wouldn't have had to if Max hadn’t smashed the last one on one of her tirades. Max didn't drink heavily often, but when she did, she almost always found something to be pissed at Chloe for. Patched holes in the drywall were tally marks for their worst disagreements. 

Just the other night, Chloe had been put on leave from the tattoo shop. Her hands wouldn't stop shaking, she was losing weight, the bags under her eyes of sleepless nights on the couch were showing their wear, and her designs had taken a nosedive in quality. Her smoking habit, the one she'd kick for a few months only to come crawling back to time and time again, couldn't steady her hands nor her nerves, despite it growing to nearly half a pack a day.

Was the tobacco killing Chloe, or was this apartment?

The cold, homemade lasagna on the table gave no answers. 

The clock ticked to 12:29.

_"I'm losing my mind_

_Swore it wouldn't happen this time_

_But if love makes you stupid, you're making me the biggest fool_

_You'll ever find."_

A beep came from the hallway, and the front door swung open. Max stepped into the room, handbag and blazer slung over her shoulder, hair a tangled mess, like someone had been grabbing and dragging their fingers through it. Like she wasn't even trying to hide it from Chloe anymore.

"Hey," Chloe called out weakly, "Date night?" She asked, knowing Max already had a bullshit reason for skipping.

"Hey," Max hung her things up on the rack and took out her phone, already texting someone, not even looking at her wife sitting at the table. "Sorry, the event went long." Nothing but the sound of iPhone typing filled the room.

Chloe sighed, she didn't have the energy to fight, she didn't really have the energy to do this charade, but she continued. "Why didn't you call to say you'd be late?"

"My phone died." Max continued to text.

"Um," Chloe cleared her throat, "You're… You're using it right now. And you just used it to open the door."

Max didn't blink. "I got a charge from the cab driver, I couldn't call cause I didn't have enough battery 'till I got home."

Chloe coughed, "Was the driver nice, honey?"

Max looked up and glared at her, she wasn't a fan of pet names anymore. She wasn't a fan of a lot of things Chloe did. Her nostrils flared. "Have you been smoking in here again?"

Chloe groaned, put her head down and just raised up the lit cigarette bud in response.

"Ugh, I can't stand you. You know those aren't good for you and they smell like acid."

"Thanks, mom. I'll remember that."

"Well, you sure act like a child." Max says under her breath, but definitely loud enough that she intended Chloe to hear it.

Chloe knows she can't take the bait, can't raise her voice. She takes another drag and tries to speak calmly. "I made dinner, are you hungry? It's cold but you can heat it back up."

Chloe can almost mouth along when Max says "I already ate." _Yeah, I'm sure you did._

Max announces she's going to take a shower and go to bed, and without another word, she's gone. Chloe's worst fears are true; Max either completely forgot about their anniversary, or she doesn't give a shit.

_Lucky number 7, right?_

The door to the bathroom closes and, as if on cue, Max's phone buzzes on the coffee table across the room. Chloe stubs out her light in the sink and cleans up the food she made, throwing out most of it but keeping the lasagna in the fridge. She keeps it knowing it'll make up lunch for the next few days. She's somehow become a competent chef in the last few years, maybe Joyce gave her some good genes after all.

The phone buzzes again, Chloe plops herself down on the couch, turns on the TV, and looks at the lock screen. For a moment she thinks better of it, she's well beyond the point of caring about snooping, but did she really want to know? The phone buzzed a third time, taking the choice away from her as she snatched it up.

_*R: i owe you for the hotel room, thanks for that one*_

_*R: fucj i can still feel you inside me*_

_*R: ur a fucking tease, caulfield. leaving me like that. dream of me <3 night ;)* _

It didn't surprise Chloe that Max was cheating, nor that she didn't have the decency to hide it on a burner phone. It didn't surprise her that Max probably wasn't at the photography event she said she was tonight. It almost surprised her that Max was close enough to this person that she would use their real last name, but mainly it made Chloe Caulfield feel closer to the edge. This person, this stranger, was probably closer to Max than Chloe had been in years. She knew she'd been pushed away by her wife, but was she being forced out by someone in-between them too?

Chloe put down the phone and rubbed her temples, searching her brain for names that started with R. Only one came to mind, Rachel. But that was a whole other issue. It couldn't be Rachel, not unless they were both hiding something huge from her. Rachel moved out to New York last spring, and Chloe hadn't heard a peep from her in 9 months.

Chloe’s gut churned at the thought of her. 

Max may have been her solemate, but Rachel was her angel, the one who kept her alive long enough to even see Max again. Max and Chloe both grew up in Arcadia Bay, a little town on the Oregon Coast, and they were inseparable. They would spend every waking hour outside of school together, playing pirates, making up games, sneaking away from their parents to their secret bases and tree forts, always finding new ways to go on adventures and get in trouble. Then, in a flash, her father died in a car accident, Max’s parents moved her to Seattle with only a tape recording to say goodbye, and Chloe was alone with a mother who grew further and further out of touch with her reality by the day. She fell into a hole of crushing depression that only grew worse when David, an abusive ex-military douchebag with a short fuse and a temperament for hitting Chloe, married her mom less than three years after her father died.

Rachel was the only thing that pulled her out of that hole. They met at Blackwell Academy, the private junior college in Arcadia Bay that they both attended, Rachel there because of her near perfect grades, while Chloe was admitted as a “scholarship choice student,” (AKA, a local kid so the school could meet the quota required for receiving state funding.) After a few wild weeks that involved teenage rebellion, underground rock shows, a Shakespearean tragedy, a wildfire, the arrest of a photography teacher, at least two vandalized statues, and Chloe barely avoiding expulsion, they became thick as thieves. Chloe had someone to fill the hole her father and Max had left. 

And then, out of nowhere in their senior year at Blackwell, Max came back. It took a while for their friendship to warm back up, but as soon as it did, it turned into romance. Chloe shivered at the thought of how thick their relationship was back then, how it felt like Max had returned specifically for her, for the intent of seducing and ravaging her.

The rest of the year flew by with Max and Rachel by her side. The trio eloped following graduation, ending up in LA, where Rachel’s modeling and Max’s photography careers took off. A weekend of celebration in Vegas later, and Max and herself had rings on their fingers. Chloe didn’t like to think of that as her wedding really, rather remembering their “vow renewal” ceremony they had the next year where family and friends were actually invited. 

By chance, Rachel followed them to San Francisco when Max relocated for her job at the time. They all stayed together even though Rachel was gone most days out of the year, until last December, when Rachel went radio silent and then poofed off to New York with barely a word. Her best friend of over 10 years, gone in a flash.

So it could be Rachel? She’d always like to flirt with Max, but it never struck Chloe as anything more than playful. And if he was still somehow in the city, she wasn’t staying at her old apartment, which had been taken over by a cranky old man who didn’t appreciate it when Chloe came by asking questions. Rachel also had a long string of boyfriends that changed so often no one could keep up, and she had said that she was “unfortunately straight,” saying if she was otherwise “I would have stolen you and taken off before Max would have had a chance.”

Her head in her hands, she gave up. This woman (She'd decided it had to be a woman because, one, Max had basically never shown in anyone who wasn't femme, and two, the whole 'i can still feel you inside me' probably gave it away, with Max having never shown an interest in butt stuff either) either had something on Max, or made Max feel better than Chloe ever could. Or at least better than she could given the state of their relationship.

Paid programming on the television laid the soundtrack for what was probably another night left on the couch. Chloe could only ask questions.

How did she get here? Chloe Price, high school rebel of the year, now basically the domestic housewife forced out of her partner’s love.

_Just... Who, Max? Who is she?_

~~

Victoria tastes strawberry daiquiri and cheap perfume, but Max doesn't care. Actually she does, but not enough to stop her assault on the blonde's lips. She'll give Victoria a few slaps later and tell her to be more presentable next time, and Vic will just moan and squirm like the slut she is.

She’s wearing this little black number that looks like it could fall at any time, strapless and barely covering her thighs. Max couldn’t believe it when she walked in the door at the gallery. If it wasn’t for the huge coat she was wearing, she would have fit right in on the San Francisco streets. Max wanted to tear it off her. Rip it to shreds, let fabric give way to skin. Max could always just buy her a new one anyway.

She traps the blonde between the wall and her body, nails digging into the wrists held above her head. Max steals her breath as Victoria arches her back, her body begging for more. Max’s fingers are suddenly inside her cunt, and before she can scream out in need, Max’s other hand covers her mouth. Victoria is a squirmer, a screamer, and putty in Max’s hands. The photographer revels in the power she holds over the woman that’s become her pet.

“You haven’t been cumming without my permission, have you?” Her question comes out in airy breaths, the words slipping straight into Victoria’s mind.

The blonde shakes her head, her eyes begging for Max to believe her.

“Good, because your orgasms belong to me. Don’t they, you fucking whore.”

It’s not a question. It was never a question. Victoria didn’t give up her freedoms, they were taken from her. Bargained away for the promise of pleasure in the future. She loved it. After years of needing everything to go her way, she loved losing control. She loved Max’s grip on her life. She loved the hands pulling hair, the fingers pumping in and out, the feet forcing her into the ground, the legs she humped against in heat. She loves Max’s grin, cheshire in nature, her laugh, like an orchestrated plan coming together, her voice; sultry, commanding, absolute.

Max’s fingers curl inside her, and her train of thought is sparked out of existence.

"You're mine, Ria"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think. I hope to have this updated again soon. Stay safe out there, y'all.


	2. Counsel

From: Dr. Abigail Simon, LMCH (Abig…@gma.il)

To: Dr. Sia Hannover, Easton Health... (SiaH…@EHHS.org)

Subject: Medication Referral

FOR INTERNAL USE ONLY

_ Ms. Chloe Elizabeth Price Caulfield is a 29-year-old Caucasian woman who works as a tattoo artist and who is married to her spouse, a professional photographer. Ms. Caulfield came to me for a consultation regarding mental health counselling and medication referrals, and I am sending these notes to you on the recommendation that she be considered for medication to address symptoms from depression and anxiety. _

_ Ms. Caulfield believes her marriage to be failing and suspects her spouse of infidelity. She engages in argumentative behavior with her spouse that has resulted in some destruction of property. She reports no physical abuse and claims that many problems stem from her spouse being disinterested and unengaged rather than hostile. When asked why she wouldn’t leave her situation or if she has considered taking a break from her relationship, she says she feels trapped and without a place to retreat to or fall back on, finding she has a hard time envisioning a “way out.” She says her lack of a college degree heavily affects her ability to find steady and gainful employment and that her spouse remains in control of most of the couple’s finances. She also says her closest friends, including long-time friend “Rachel” who she has not heard from in several months, either have moved away from the area or are not in situations where they could support her with lodging. Her relationship with her family is also strained. Her father passed away in a car accident when she was a child, and event for which Ms. Caulfield has sought counselling and medication before, and her mother’s new husband has caused a rift with his previously physically and emotionally abusive behavior. Ms. Caulfield seems traumatized from this abuse she suffered from as a teenager, and has insecurities surrounding abandonment from situations regarding her birth father’s death. _

_ My professional opinion is that Ms. Caulfield is experiencing severe symptoms of depression and anxiety, but I cannot confirm if parts of her story are true or fabricated. She seemed very hesitant when describing acts or reasons for her spouse’s infidelity and when questioned on things that seemed like simple details. She also only referred to her “spouse” as such, which I suspect may mean she is in a queer relationship or possibly some other kind of domestic partnership. _

_ When discussing previous medication, she spoke briefly about how she experienced memory loss and memory alteration side effects when previously taking Bupropion HCL. I have a suspicion, but can in no way confirm, that these memory effects may actually be a symptom of depression, and that this is affecting her ability to recall events currently. _

_ I recommend a medication check and a psychiatric lab test to scan for possible side effects. I also referred Ms. Caulfield and her spouse to couples counseling, but she declined without comment. _

__

~~

Chloe came out of her appointment with Dr. Simon feeling worse than she did going in, which seemed like a far too often effect of therapy. The woman seemed to listen well to Chloe as she explained her situation, but it felt like she didn’t trust what Chloe had to say and kept questioning her on things that didn’t make any sense. She would probably have to search for another therapist again, but at least she had a doctor’s appointment for medication. Meds weren’t really her favorite pastime, often they just made her feel numb or gave her an upset stomach so she quit using them after a few weeks, but she was willing to give them another shot as long as they were something new. That probably meant she was going to have to fight with the doctor not to put her on just another SSRI, and Chloe just hoped she would have the energy for that when the time came.

_ “She said, ‘I'm ready for you’ _

_ Why I can't remember anything to this very day _

_ 'Cept the look, the look _

_ Oh, you know where, now I can't see I just stare _

_ Hey, I, I’m still alive.” _

The song reminds Chloe of her father. William always kept a few CDs in the car with him, and Pearl Jam's  _ Ten _ was a staple of that small collection. He never played it loud, though. Despite how singable  _ “Alive” _ and  _ “Even Flow” _ were, it was always played at a background noise level. Chloe never really knew why, it wasn't like her father was shy about singing along to the songs he loved, whether he could actually follow the tune or not, but maybe it was just something about the style that required contemplation rather than collaboration. 

Still, even the guitar solo, unarguably the best part, couldn’t make her feel more alive.

The radio station the tattoo shop stayed tuned in to would play the song probably once an hour, but somehow late 80s/early 90s rock didn’t get super tiring the way shitty pop music today would. Chloe was wishing she could be back there, instead of in line at the convenience store for yet another pack of cigarettes.

Sweeping the strawberry blonde hair out of her face, she approached the register and placed the pack and a few folded bills on the counter. The attendant looked them over, muttering something about ‘a good choice,’ before punching the numbers into the machine. Chloe could see a pack of the same brand poking out of the man’s jacket pocket.  _ At least I have the approval of someone. _

Chloe chastised herself as she stepped out onto the street. The California sun beat down on her. It was already getting to warm to wear her leather jacket, but it provided a different kind of comfort at times; familiar, routine. She took the wrapping off the package she bought and reached for her lighter.

“Chloe? Chloe Price? Is that you?"

The familiar voice came from behind her. Chloe turned to see a pregnant woman pushing a blue stroller in front of her with a young boy whose hair was the same color as his mother’s in tow. Chloe know the color of the woman’s hair like she knew how it felt, how it smelled, or at least how it used to smell.

“Dana? Holy sh—” Chloe stopped herself short when Dana raised an eyebrow and tilted her head towards the young boy walking beside her, who for his part looked rather excited for Chloe to curse. “I mean, holy cow. Dana, I haven’t seen you in forever. How have you been? What are you doing in San Fran? I thought you were still living in Portland.”

Dana sighed but smiled warmly. “I’ve been good, Chloe, very busy but good. And it’s really good to see you.” She took her hands off the stroller and stretched back her shoulders. The baby all swaddled up in blankets didn’t move an inch and looked to be sound asleep. “Myself, my wife, and our little growing family actually live here now. We just moved down from Portland and everything has happened so quickly I’ve barely had time to update everyone about it. My wife, Amber, she got a promotion just two weeks ago and they wanted her to start right away.

“We moved into a place over near the East Cut a few days ago. I’ve been taking the kids on walks everyday since to get acclimated, and to get this one," she put her hand on her very pregnant belly, “some much needed exercise.”

Dana tilted her head. "God, I almost didn't recognize you at first without any dye in your hair. Don't take this the wrong way, but it makes you look really young, kinda cute.

Chloe blushed and nodded as she listed, but she just couldn’t stop herself from staring at Dana as she talked. She was even more beautiful than Chloe remembered, and the pregnancy glow, which she always thought of as a myth, was definitely a thing with Dana. Watching her smile, it made Chloe think about what might have happened had she married a different high school sweetheart.

Chloe shook her head, trying to clear it and chastising herself for her thoughts and for not responding right away.

“Oh! Thanks... Uh, yeah. I haven't done much with it for a while now, just letting it grow out. You look like, really good too." Chloe bit her tongue, "I mean, just like, you look confident and in charge but still hot in like a motherly way." Chloe  _ really _ grimaced at that one. "I'm sorry that sounded creepy and came out wrong, what I meant to say was--

She was cut off by Dana's symphonic laugh, filling the air. "Chloe! You're fine, don't worry about it. It's good to know I'm still attractive even bloated like this." She smiled and put her hand on her hip, stretching her back a little. "How are you doing? Haven't heard from you in a while, or from Max for that matter, though I keep hearing about her work online."

Ah, there was the subject she didn't feel like talking about. Chloe sighed and looked away for a second, seeing Dana's young boy silently messing with the wheel locks on the stroller his younger sibling sat in. 

"Things are… kinda rough right now. Yeah." She looked back towards Dana, "Max is well, I guess, she's pretty busy always and doesn't have the time for me I guess. I've been just… hanging around? I don't know…" Chloe cursed at herself for her apathetic non-answer.

"Oh?" Dana looked at her with concern. "What do you mean? What's up?"

"Just a lot of shi-- stuff. Stuff that I'm not sure I can control."

Dana pursed her lips and gave Chloe a look, one that signaled that she was getting an idea. “Hey, I was about to take these three to lunch, and I’ve been craving pizza all day. Would you like to come along?”

~~

Victoria’s own drool dripped down onto her chest, the gag in her mouth stopping her from getting rid of it the usual way. She couldn’t see herself, or indeed see anything through thick leather of her blindfold, but she knew she had to look like an absolute mess. Her chest covered in spit, her ass covered in caning marks, and her thighs soaked in wetness. The noise cancelling headphones meant she couldn’t even hear what was coming, only her own cries and moans. All she could do was  _ feel. _

Feel the multitude of ropes that suspended her from the ground. She could have been 6 inches off the floor or 6 feet. She had no way of knowing, and not knowing only elevated the thrill she was experiencing.

Feel the welts and marks growing on her backside. The sting of the cane on her skin and in her muscles came with no warning, no sound or signal preceding to let her know what was coming. And when it did arrive it took her body a split-second to actually register it. But every slip, slap, and slice was followed by sounds from her throat and squirms from her body.

Feel herself getting off on the situation, the stimulation. She should feel ashamed that she was getting so aroused by this degeneracy, this abuse on her body, and she was, but only as much as her mistress wanted her to be so she was easier to manipulate.

All Victoria could do was  _ feel _ as Mistress beat and bruised her in all the right ways, all the ways that made her sore and excited for days.

Everything was quiet for a minute, then she felt a pair of hands slowly undoing the buckle behind her head, followed by the gag in her mouth falling out of its place. Victoria gasped for air, more drool falling down on her skin. She tried to speak but was silenced by a finger pressed against her lips.

The headphones were removed form over Victoria’s ears. “Shh, shh,” she heard. “Don’t talk, just stretch your jaw out for me first.”

Fingers held her face as she opened and closed her mouth. They massaged her cheeks and muscles.

“How are you doing, my little whore?” Maxine’s voice washed over her, always a welcome sound, but right now it was feeling like the voice of an angel, bringing pleasure and comfort to Victoria’s whole spirit. Victoria realized long ago that Max had trained her to associate her voice with arousal and good feelings, and that made those experiences just even hotter.

Victoria cleared her throat and spoke; “Green,” she said, indicating she would be more than happy for the scene to continue.

Maxine gave a laugh. “Good slut.” She pet her slave gently, running her hand across her short blonde hair, cuddling Victoria’s suspended body with her other arm. “You preformed excellently.”

Victoria felt her Mistress’s lips on hers, and no matter how sore she was, nothing could stop her from kissing back when presented.

The sound of a camera shuttering reached her ears.


	3. The Engines We Throttle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, originally I had hoped to have this chapter out early last month and then I would set up a schedule, buuuut then my car got its bumper crushed in the snow, and my phone just up and died on me, leaving me without reliable internet access. So I'm not committing to that schedule just yet, but I hope to be on track to do that soon. Alright, enough yapping, on to the chapter!
> 
> Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-a8QyvCmnvU

"Wendy let me in, I wanna be your friend

I want to guard your dreams and visions

Just wrap your legs 'round these velvet rims

And strap your hands across my engines"

_ As Suzi Quatro's cover played on the stereo across the room, Dana's legs wrapped themselves tight around the punk's hips to draw their bodies closer together and to thrust the strapped-on silicone cock deeper inside herself. The moans that resulted were just more music to Chloe's ears. _

_ "Fuck, fuck! Stay there, Chlo, stay stay stay. I'm getting so close, fuck!" Dana began grinding against Chloe, having found exactly the right spot. As her ankles crossed across the bluenette's back, locking her in place like a snake coiled around its prey, her hands searched for anything to grab onto to ground her. Eventually they landed on Chloe's biceps and dug their nails into tattooed skin on one side and virgin skin on the other. _

_ Chloe bit her lower lip as Dana trembled beneath her, smirking confidently. She leaned down to kiss Dana as she came. Dana, barely having the presence of mind to kiss back, just moaned into Chloe's mouth, which in her opinion was just about the hottest thing imaginable at that moment. _

_ As her orgasm came to an end, Dana pulled in her bedmate with her arms, completing a full body hug that kept Chloe warm and inside her while she regained her barings. _

_ "So," Chloe loomed over her with a goofy smile on her face, "You think the strap-on was a good investment?." _

_ Dana laughed through panting breaths. "Yeah, I think so, I really do. Good thing I knew someone who would be happy to test it out with me." She giggled. _

_ Chloe gave her a smirk before planting another kiss on the cheerleader's lips, one that Dana was happy and able to return. _

_ "If you want another safe investment, I could recommend some soundproofing for your room. I'm not saying the whole dorm could hear you, but, um, you were  _ pretty _ enthusiastic." _

_ "Chloe!" _

_ "What? I'm not complaining, I actually enjoy it, we just might want to avoid noise complaints from the city, you know?" _

_ Dana grabbed a pillow and threw it at the punk's blue head. It landed with a  _ puff _ and did absolutely no damage as Chloe laughed it off. "You're such a goofball," Dana said, "A big old-- ahh!" _

_ Dana's moans cut her off as Chloe started to move her hips again, reminding Dana that there was still something filling her that felt really, really good. _

_ "Fuck! Okay, fuck." Dana put her hands flat on the bed, "As much as I like-- ahhhh, fuck! As much as I like this, I am spent and I gotta tap out now." She made her point by tapping her fingers on Chloe's shoulder. _

_ "Mkay." Chloe quickly pulled out, which caused gasps from her partner, who shuttered and stumbled on the bed. _

_ "You dick!" Dana shouted playfully. _

_ "Actually it's your dick, I just happen to be attached to it right now." _

_ ~~ _

_ "So you're heading back to Portland for the summer…" Chloe took a long hit of the joint, some of the ashes falling on her chest, before breathing out slowly. She passed it to Dana, who was laying down beside her on the rug in the middle of the Blackwell dorm. Dana took some lighter puffs before passing it back  _

_ "You know, you could always come visit me. My parents would probably even let you stay the night as long as you don't tell them we're, you know, a thing." _

_ A thing. Right. Chloe and Dana weren't a thing, at least publicly. They weren't romantically involved, they weren't in the same friend groups, they only knew each other because they both grew up in Arcadia Bay and went to the same elementary school before Dana moved to Portland during the 5th grade.  _

_ They were each other's fallback, the person they turned to when they were single, when they were dumped or rejected and needed someone to talk about it with. They were there to ground one another, and when the time called for it, they were friends with benefits, just without the friends part in public. _

_ "Right, I could, as long as the old bucket of bolts can drive the 90 miles there." Chloe took another hit. "Right now if I drive it higher than 25 I think the whole transmission would fall out in the middle of the road. It's held together with duct tape at the moment." _

_ "Don't be so cynical. I've seen you hard at work on that truck, you've been making a lot of progress. And if you really can't make it, I could come pick you up. _

_ Chloe thought it over. "... Alright, cool." _

_ "Cool?" _

_ "Cool." _

_ They laid there, not saying anything for a while. Only the sounds of puffing, passing, and birds outside the window made any indication that time was still moving. _

_ "When does Max move back?" Dana asked. _

_ After years of barely sending a message, Max had come back to the bay a while ago to visit Chloe and explain herself. Once they got past Chloe's hostilities (which were totally reasonable and not overblown), the two pirates' relationship rekindled quickly. Max had even made fast friends with Rachel, who took an interest in the smaller brunette Chloe had told her so much about. Now Max was moving back to Arcadia full time, taking summer session classes at Blackwell in preparation of spending her senior year there. _

_ "Next month, July 8th." Chloe answered briefly. _

_ "Are you going to tell her how you feel?" _

_ Chloe groaned, "I don't know. I don't even really know how I feel. It's just a crush, and I don't want to overwhelm her all at once with… Whatever it is." _

_ Dana tuned over and put her hand on Chloe's arm, drawing little circles across her skin. "Hey, it's okay. If you want to talk about it you know me or Rachel will listen. We're here for you." _

_ "I know, I know." _

I know _ , Chloe thought,  _ I know, I know.

~~

Tyler, Dana’s oldest, carefully picked off each piece of pepperoni from his slices of pizza and set them down on his mother’s plate. Dana just picked up the grease covered disks with her fingers and ate them in stacks while Chloe watched with a chuckle.

“Sorry ’bout that, Dana apologized, licking the flavor off each of her fingers individually, “Being pregnant makes me such a sloppy eater.” She took a sip of her water and wiped her hands on the napkins in her lap.

“It’s totally fine.” Chloe only had a single slice of the pizza Dana was nice enough to order, and it still looked like the rest of the pie wouldn’t be enough for the 8-month pregnant mother and her 9-year-old son. They just kept eating endlessly. Little baby Julian, however, continued to not know a thing about the world around him as his stroller nap continued into the afternoon. Chloe was marveled by the little guy’s ability to sleep through anything; the street traffic, fire engine horns, and the talking head sportscasters nearly screaming at each other on the restaurant’s TVs. Maybe having kids wouldn’t be so bad if they all slept as much as him. She smiled as the baby boy babbled in his sleep before snoring once again.

Chloe found it surprisingly easy to be around Dana, even with the two and a half kids tagging along. They’d last seen each other at Max and Chloe’s "Family and Friends Invited this Time" wedding ceremony, and Dana had brought then toddler Tyler to that as well. She had to admit that she had been avoiding the mother and her child to an extent back then, as she was a little worried about rekindling feelings with an old flame. 

Little Tyler tugged on his mother’s shirt. “Mommy, can I go to the bathroom?”

“Of course, sweetie. Make sure you wash your hands nice and good, okay?” Dana responded. The boy nodded and ran off towards the back of the dining room, his sneakers leaving a trail of squeaking noises on the linoleum floor behind him.

Dana turned to Chloe, “God, he has so much energy. I’d say he gets it from his father, but I know I’m also to blame.” She giggled and gave a sly smile.

Chloe tried to politely smile back. “Right, I mean, I can see that. Is… you know, his father still around?” Chloe immediately regretted asking as soon as she did, putting a hand over her mouth. One side effect of not being able to think clearly it turned out was not thinking about the difference between whether a question can be asked and whether it  _ should _ be asked. It was her old adolescent habits creeping back up on her when she got stressed.  _ Goddamn it, _ she thought,  _ I don’t think before I say something that hurts someone, I just fucking let my fat mouth open and drive people away like I always have. _ Before she could eek or stammer out an apology, Dana caught her hand. She looked up to see the concern and worry on Dana’s face.

“Hey, it’s fine. You can ask me that, no worries.” Dana stroked her hand comfortingly, like she knew the panic Chloe was about to put herself through and was trying to stop it in its tracks.

Dana traced circles with her thumb along the backside of Chloe’s hand. Chloe’s breath hitched for a split second, before almost automatically slowing down. She recognized the movement, it was a technique the cheerleader she’d dated in high school would pull out whenever she began to panic, tracing small circles along her skin, the circular motion trying to pull Chloe back from where her brain or her emotions were trying to drive her, trying to ground her in the simple shape and the feeling of gentle contact. It was one of the simplest but most effective things Chloe had to fight her anxiety. Dana originated the technique, but Rachel knew how to do it, Max knew how to do it-- Or at least Max  _ did _ know how to do it, but she’d either forgotten or given up on it since she and her wife drifted apart.

Chloe took a deep breath. Dana just kept holding her hand for a minute longer, not saying anything. It had been years since anyone had done this for her, yet it still worked like it was an automatic response, like her body was conditioned to take a step back and release calming neurotransmitters or something when it happened. If it were any other response, Chloe would have been worried that someone else could affect her like this, and she was a bit worried that it was Dana who she had just run into on the street and not someone like her wife for whom this might be more appropriate, but she really couldn’t feel that intense stress in this situation, and that was a break Chloe was happy to welcome.

Dana patted her hand, “To answer your question, no. Logan gave up most of his rights to Tyler in exchange for smaller child support payments. He doesn’t want anything to do with us it seems, and I’m fine with that. My wife and I haven’t actually cashed any of his checks for a while now, we’re lucky enough that we don’t need the extra cash, so I count that as a moral victory.” She finally let go of Chloe’s hand to take a drink of water. “If you’re wondering, Julian and this one,” she pointed to her stomach, “Who I am hoping will be our first girl, are my wife and I’s children.”

Chloe nodded, just continuing to listen to Dana. It was incredible how quickly her emotions had leveled off, but something in that statement caught her off guard. “Wait, you mean like… How does that work?”

Dana rolled her eyes playfully, like she had heard this confusion before. “Simply put, my wife is transgender, and I will let you know I have no problems cutting anyone who objects to that out of my life, but I trust you’re okay with that.”

“Oh! No that’s totally cool, no problems here.”

“Good,” Dana smiled and grabbed the last slice of pizza, biting into it before continuing. “So they are our biological children. Not that it mattered to us that much that they were when we decided to have more kids, but I am glad I get to carry them. I’m proud of that.”

She wiped off her hands on the napkin in her lap. "Okay, I can tell you're avoiding it, but I can also tell it's eating at you. So, what's up with Max?"

Chloe bit her tongue, looked down at the greasy remains of the pie, and was silent for a minute. Tyler returned to the table from the restroom, wet hand-prints on his otherwise dry shirt, and Chloe thought maybe she should drop the topic. But Dana just waited patiently and it felt like she should at least give her some kind of answer.

"Max is…" Chloe rubbed her arm, searching for the right words that didn't make her seem as paranoid as Dr. Simon probably thought she was. "Max is gone a lot. You know, she's always had photography assignments or events that she has to travel for, but lately… It feels like she's doing a lot of things that she doesn't care for me to know about."

"She goes to parties and premiers around town without telling about there, which, yeah, maybe I wouldn't be super into them anyway, but it would be nice to be asked, and even better if they didn't keep interfering with the plans I try to make. She just-- Like, we had a 'discussion' last week," Chloe used her hands to show heavy air quotes, "where we agreed we would set Friday nights aside for kind of a 'date night,' and if we couldn't make it we would reschedule. But instead date night #1 comes around and she goes out to some art gallery and stays there all night and when she finally gets home all the food I made is cold and she says she ate already anyway she talks so much shit and I find--"

Chloe half stops herself and half is stopped by Tyler shouting in glee and giving a round of applause. She realized he finally got to hear her say 'shit' and curse. Dana gives him a motherly look that translates to something like 'Don't you dare try saying that yourself.'

Chloe nearly got ahead of herself, telling Dana about Max's texts, the mysterious other person  _ R _ , and her speculations on who it might be and why. She took a breath, trying to get herself to pull back and reign it in. Turns out it was still really easy for her to trust Dana with her thoughts. The more things change…

Dana cleared her throat, "What? What did you find?"

Chloe looked back at her, her face full of curiosity. She looks as beautiful as she always has, and something about the fact that she was actually listening was doing something for Chloe. Maybe it was because Max didn't care to hear her anymore, and just being able to unload with someone had been out of reach for so long it was suddenly attractive to be around another who cared.

It took a moment, but Chloe finally saw the pieces that had fallen into place. She still had to decide whether to answer, and answer truthfully or not, but she realized she had to admit to herself: She had feelings for a married woman.

"Dana, I think Max is cheating on me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I have a conditioning kink? Maybe. Is that going to play a role in the story? I haven’t decided yet but do tell me if that is interesting/hot to you or just troubling. If you do do conditioning in your relationships, make sure you do a lot of consent pretalk because Oh Boy can it get heavy.
> 
> I forgot to put an endnote on the last chapter but Hey! Dana! She’s one of my favorite characters in LiS who I feel doesn’t get enough screen time. She and her wife say "trans rights."
> 
> If you feel like it, please let me know if any of the backstory stuff is confusing or if it feels like I’m doing info dumps too much/in an inconvenient way. I really appreciate all the feedback you all give me and love your comments, and they help a lot with letting me know what I might need to improve or focus on. Y’all are the best and I love y’all. See you soon.


End file.
